The Wages of Fear

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Synopsis
In a squalid South American oil town, four desperate men sign on for a suicide mission to drive trucks loaded with nitroglycerin over a treacherous mountain route. As they ferry their explosive cargo to a faraway oil fire, each bump and jolt tests their courage, their friendship, and their nerves. The result is one of the greatest thrillers ever committed to celluloid, a white-knuckle ride from France’s legendary master of suspense Henri-Georges Clouzot.
Picture 9/10
Henri-Georges Clouzot’s The Wages of Fear receives a 4K upgrade from The Criterion Collection, presented in its original 1.37:1 aspect ratio on a triple-layer disc. The 2160p/24hz ultra high-definition transfer is presented in SDR and sourced from the 2017 4K restoration, which features approximately four minutes of additional footage not found in earlier releases. The restoration primarily utilized a scan of the original 35mm nitrate negative, with the 35mm fine-grain master positive used to fill in where necessary. Criterion also includes a standard dual-layer Blu-ray featuring a 1080p presentation derived from the same restoration, along with all of the disc’s supplements.
While it wasn’t exactly shocking to see this new presentation surpass Criterion’s previous Blu-ray, I was still taken aback by just how substantial the improvement is. As expected, the increased resolution significantly enhances detail and definition—individual pebbles on the rugged road now stand out in both long shots and close-ups like never before. Film grain appears sharper and more refined than in any of Criterion’s earlier editions. However, the real star here is the improved contrast and expanded grayscale. The broader range of grays and cleaner delineation lend the image a striking, photographic quality, drawing out subtleties previously lost, such as faint clouds hovering in the sky or reflections glinting off metal along the dark country roads.
Though HDR might have provided an extra punch, its absence isn’t much of a loss—there’s still an impressive dynamic range on display, with elements like headlights piercing through the blackness during a nighttime sequence. In this area it's a gorgeous update throughout, a far cry from the overly contrasty 1999 DVD that marked my first experience with the film.
The restoration work is also noteworthy, further cleaning up the image. A few minor specks of dirt remain, and certain shots have a dupier appearance compared to the rest, exhibiting heavier contrast and thicker grain (likely pulled from the master positive). The encode is solid as well, though I did notice some mild blocking in the highlights when scrutinizing still frames—thankfully, I didn't find it all that apparent during playback. Overall, these are minor quibbles in what is otherwise a pristine presentation. A major upgrade across the board.
























































Audio 7/10
The film’s primarily French audio track (with several other languages interspersed throughout) is presented in lossless single-channel PCM mono and, like the video, offers a noticeable upgrade over Criterion’s previous Blu-ray. Dialogue is sharper and crisper here, especially when compared to the older Blu-ray, and miles ahead of the flat, brittle audio found on the original DVD. There’s a surprising amount of range, particularly in the film’s more action-heavy sequences, whether it’s the grinding of truck gears or the sharp punch of an explosion. For a track of this era, it sounds remarkably robust.
Extras 8/10
Criterion ports over all of the supplements from their previous Blu-ray to the included standard Blu-ray disc, while also adding a couple of new features for this 4K edition. Things kick off with a 22-minute interview with assistant director Michel Romanoff, who discusses his experience working with Clouzot and the two years spent making the film. Romanoff shares a few amusing anecdotes, including how Clouzot would call him in the middle of the night to pitch ideas, and he reflects on the dangerous conditions they faced during filming—they really did blow up a rock, and they really did shoot on a rickety, half-finished bridge. He also touches on working with Clouzot’s wife, Vera, and reveals the surprising material used for the oil pit sequence (spoiler: it wasn’t oil). Romanoff likens the production to an “army operation,” making this a brief but fascinating look at Clouzot’s working methods.
Next up is a 10-minute interview with Marc Godin, co-author of Clouzot: Cinéaste. He provides a quick overview of Clouzot’s career and influences, including the fallout from Le Corbeau. Following that is a short but worthwhile feature: excerpts from a 1988 interview with Yves Montand, running just 5 minutes. Montand talks about how he became an actor and reflects on The Wages of Fear, a film he considers pivotal in his career.
The standout supplement here is Henri-Georges Clouzot: The Enlightened Tyrant, a 52-minute documentary offering a comprehensive look at the director’s life and career. It traces Clouzot’s early years and literary ambitions, his entry into the German film industry, and his eventual expulsion following the rise of the Nazis due to his association with Jewish friends. After returning to France, he battled tuberculosis for four years before resuming his film career—only to find himself collaborating under German occupation during World War II, where he made Le Corbeau and later faced a postwar industry ban for perceived collaboration. The documentary delves deeply into The Wages of Fear and Clouzot’s relationship with Vera Clouzot, his first wife, whose acting career and life were cut short by a heart condition. It also touches on his later films and includes memorable anecdotes from Brigitte Bardot. It’s a thorough and engaging piece, divided into seven chapters.
Also included is Censored, a 12-minute video essay originally created for Criterion’s 2009 release, narrated by Allison Mackie. It’s an update of a multimedia slideshow first featured on the 2005 DVD and investigates the reasoning behind the 55 minutes cut from the original American release. Using photos, clips, and commentary, Mackie suggests that the edits aimed to remove content with perceived homosexual undertones or anti-American sentiment.
New to this edition is an 8-minute restoration demonstration covering the 2017 restoration process, from scanning fragile nitrate elements to grading the film, using a 35mm print as a reference. Criterion also (finally) includes the original theatrical trailer—now restored—along with the Janus Films trailer promoting the new restoration.
Rounding out the package is a booklet ported over from the previous release, featuring Dennis Lehane’s essay on the film. This edition adds excerpts from cast and crew interviews originally collected for Clouzot cinéastes, providing further context to several of the comments.
While I’m still surprised Criterion hasn’t commissioned a commentary, this remains a well-rounded and worthwhile set of features, especially if you’ve yet to explore them.
Closing
A sharp new presentation that easily outclasses Criterion’s earlier releases of the film.


